Poco a Poco
by lumidai
Summary: AU where Artemis loses interest in being the head of the Fowl Industries, and he composes music as he begins to take over the business. No Last Guardian in this verse. Once he becomes stuck on composing, Artemis finds musical inspiration in the most silent, stoic of places. Artler, fluffy slash. Disclaimer on my profile.


**October 22 2013**

**A/N: This is an answer to a prompt made on tumblr, the prompter requested Artler fluff so here it is! I may have gone over board with it though...**

**Anyways, this is an AU! Artemis and Butler still went through fairy adventures but after the Atlantis Complex Artemis lost interest in continuing the business and became a professional composer.**

**The music terms used in this fic are probably all wrong, I'm afraid my orchestra experience wasn't enough to use it on here, and even by researching a bit I feel that it doesn't make sense. **

**You're free to point out any errors, be it musical or grammar.**

* * *

Artemis stared at his piano, frowning in dismay.

_What to play? _he asked himself, starting out with a simple crotchet, or a quarter note.

It's been several months that he's been suffering a composing block, where everything he writes just seems _wrong. _Like the music just wasn't there and left him with bland, impassioned notes.

It was probably the fault of all the bloody work the seemed to pile up on his desk day by day, and he didn't even have _time _to think about composing. And it wasn't that he had difficulty in completing all this work, he's always been told what a genius he was and how he was going to go far, and he would always reply with a smug _'thank you'. _

But all those people expected him to be like his father, leader in the weapons industry. His empire has extended beyond Europe, and though it wasn't always legal, his father could bring more than just food to the table.

Yet Artemis wasn't in the least interested in taking over the business, which is probably why he worked slower on the paperwork. He just wanted to keep composing and composing, and at the beginning it wasn't necessarily for the sake of being famous, but for himself. But after being scouted at his private school and composing his first symphony for the Dublin orchestra, he's become quite famous and requested.

He's just been recently invited to be featured in New York's yearly music festival in Central Park, and this was his chance to broaden his horizons beyond Europe.

Artemis gave a frustrated noise and erased a note. He hasn't even moved on from his First Movement, how was he going to finish four movements by the end of the month?

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," he said, organizing his papers in a pile. Butler entered with a tray, setting the tea on a small table near Artemis.

"How is it going?" Butler asked, starting to prepare Artemis's tea.

"Not well," scowled Artemis, standing up to go sit on a chair by the table. "I have the themes picked out, but it all sounds so stressed and sloppy. The themes I picked out just don't speak to me."

"Perhaps change them?" Butler suggested, carefully outstretching the cup towards Artemis, who murmured a thank you. "You still have time, don't you?"

"About three weeks," nodded Artemis. "But Father insists I take part in the Colombian import, I hardly have any time." He sipped from his Earl Grey. "I have to choose between work and the composition."

"I'm sure you could do both," Butler said, standing straight and folding his hands in front of him. "You and I know you can do more than just multi-task, Artemis."

Artemis nodded absently, watching the tea's steam. It felt warm against his face. He blew on it.

He was keeping himself busy with simple, stupid thoughts as these because he wanted to keep himself from thinking…something else.

Such as how Butler always gave him such motivating words, when he should just be all business. How he lifted his confidence even more and helped him in composing and supported him in everything,

And Artemis hated him so much for always being there. And not just "there" like all the Butlers in his family. But actually an important presence in his life.

Much more important than others. He hated him.

"I probably feel the inability to write because of the stress I have. I can practically feel that pile of paperwork begging to be done," Artemis sighs. "I'll get started on it, to avoid any annoying problems with father."

Artemis looked at Butler, his expression as stoic as ever, just not directly to his eyes. "You may take some time off," said Artemis.

"Madam Fowl actually asked me to tend to her gardenias. She said she actually preferred me than the current gardener," Butler said in a dry tone. "Call if you need anything."

"I know."

Butler gave an awkward nod, and walked off. Artemis watched him, than internally kicked himself for watching him go off like a girl with her boyfriend.

Would Butler even be a boyfriend? The thought amused him, no doubt Butler would be overprotective, but how else would he be?

Once more Artemis internally scolded himself. It wasn't the first time he's thought of that.

The paperwork didn't take him much. After he finished, he walked to his music room.

His music room was Artemis's favorite room in the whole manor. It was filled with various instruments and when you entered you can basically breathe in the tranquility.

His favorite thing is probably the big glass wall that overlooked the garden. Artemis liked to look out to nature as he played, he often found inspiration there.

He sat down on his piano, and looked around to find inspiration in anything, in anywhere. Usually what gave him inspiration was the sky, because of it's constant blue. Though because Ireland was Ireland, it was frequently cloudy, but Artemis knew that behind those clouds it will always be a beautiful blue.

Today some other thing caught his attention though, something just as constant as the sky. Butler was hunched down, pulling the weeds out of the gardenias.

Artemis smiled. _You are amazing, Domovoi Butler. Doing unnecessary work like that. _

Artemis kept watching, and felt something come over him. He watched Butler's movements. As simple as weeding might be, Butler's movements always seemed to be quick and precise in everything. He seemed to have no trouble pulling out the troublesome plants, and he even looked relaxed as he did..

He began on his sonata, starting the song on a andante mezzo piano, a walking half-gentle rhythm.

Incredible, his first theme is inspired on _weeding. _

_No, _Artemis corrected himself. _It's inspired by him. _

* * *

Butler noticed right away when Artemis began to play, obviously because the music room was a floor above him.

It sounded so well, Artemis had said it was something sloppy and stressed. Perhaps he was exaggerating things like he usually did.

Or he just rewrote the whole thing, Butler wondered what the themes were now.

The day went like always. Do errands and favors, then go to make dinner, and hang around Artemis some more.

But lately Artemis has been sending him off. Like he didn't need him around because he was disturbing him. Butler didn't understand how and why, but that's how he felt.

And like the loyal person he was, he listened and left Artemis alone.

After dinner he went to the dojo, to practice the same routine of always and practice with Beckett, who was quite eager to learn from him and made the evening less boring.

Beckett only stayed for two hours, then he left, Butler busied himself the rest of the evening punching the punching bag to blow off steam.

It was half past eleven at night when he finally left the dojo. He walked to Artemis's study to check if he was awake, but he wasn't there. It was too early for him to fall asleep (for Artemis it was early, anyways) so he couldn't be in his room. So he could only be in one place.

Butler walked to the music room, and the door was open a crack. He peeked in, and saw Artemis with his head down on the piano. By his steady and slow breathing, he could tell he was asleep.

So scratch that, he _can_ sleep at this hour.

Butler saw the sheets of paper on the floor, some of them scrawled out but the majority were completed. "The Beast" was the title of one, and by the amount of notes and lack of rests, Butler could tell it was a violent and lively piece.

Butler looked at Artemis's relaxed face, half of it hidden in his arm. Butler knew that Artemis was exhausted if he fell asleep this early and on his piano.

Butler also knew that if he woke him up he'll never want to go back to sleep.

So Butler quietly took Artemis in his arms bridal style. He was easy to carry, since Artemis was way shorter than him and very skinny. Artemis stirred, but merely rested his head on Butler's chest, unconsciously nuzzling it.

Butler carefully made his way to Artemis's room, and undid the bed covers. He took his shoes off and tucked him in. Artemis stayed still, and as Butler turned to leave, Artemis called him out softly.

He turned around. "Yes Artemis?"

"Come here," he murmured, his voice was obviously drowsy and tired. Butler walked towards him anyways.

Artemis took his hand, and Butler watched him curiously, wondering what he'll do.

Artemis traced small circles on the back of his hand, his eyes half-lidded. "I wanted to tell you something," he said in a whisper.

He definitely was more asleep than awake. "Can't it wait till tomorrow, Artemis? You're asleep."

Artemis shook his head. "It's important."

Butler stood quiet, and Artemis started playing with his fingers. _ "They look like sausages," _he said once to him.

"The symphony is inspired by you. I was watching you weed earlier. Incredible how you do things sometimes."

Butler blinked, unaware that Artemis had been watching. Artemis continued. "It's a thank you, sort of. For always being there."

"I'm flattered," Butler said, not really sure what to say. Artemis was asleep, for all he knows he won't remember this tomorrow morning.

Artemis gave a sleepy smile, and his hand stayed still in his. "I hope to finish it by tomorrow. The inspiration you gave was overwhelming, thank you. I also hope you like it."

"Of course."

Artemis's smile was wiped off and he let go of his hand. He turned his back to him. "You may go to bed. Good night, Butler."

Butler stared at him, stunned for the sudden change. "Good night, Artemis," he said, and left the room.

"I hope you sleep well," he heard Artemis say as he walked down the hall.

* * *

The following morning, Artemis didn't remember anything from last night, but Butler remembered it vividly. He never mentioned it, not once.

Artemis showed him the first part by piano, which started out not exactly slow, but by the second movement it got faster and more vivacious, and it would morph into something furiously passionate.

_"The symphony is inspired by you. The inspiration you gave me was overwhelming."_

Of course not, Butler thought. It's only wishful thinking.

"It'll sound better when we incorporate the rest of the instruments," says Artemis once he stopped. "They'll fall head over heels."

"It's quite fast for you, Artemis. You've always done slow pieces."

"Well of course it's fast, the inspiration is quite the beast," smiles Artemis. He definitely didn't remember.

And Butler was sure that the beast is him.

* * *

Artemis could just feel Butler's calloused hands on him, going smoothly down and between his thighs, gripping him tightly. He gasped, and shook at the sound of Butler's pleased grunt.

But then he awoke with a start, and with a tight grimace.

He checked under his sheets. No mess there, but he was definitely hard.

Artemis sighed and stood to go to the bathroom. _I really am pathetic. Honestly, having dreams like this at my age, _he thought dejectedly, as he started to release himself.

The third movement was about to start, but again he had no idea how. He could only think and fantasize, and nothing came, no matter how much he forced it.

After finishing, he sat down, knowing that he won't be able to fall asleep after this.

But the passion he felt in his dream, it was there. He only wished that it really existed.

But as he replayed the events of his dream, he suddenly remembered the horrifying memory of Butler's death.

It had stricken him with grief then, and with his love for Butler he had now, it just made him feel anguished.

_Anguish, _he thought. _And the panic I felt when you left me._

That was enough to get him inspired. He stood, putting his night robe on and walking quietly to the music room. It was barely six a.m., but the music room was sound proof.

He sat down on his piano bench, and took out the papers he had of the first and second movements. He played them out, and he could immediately tell where he could transition to the third movement.

Artemis could feel the feeling of Butler's death clump up in his chest, leaving him raw, unprotected and panicked. That's how the third movement sounded like in his head.

The third movement started out in slow, which represented Artemis hearing Butler's last words, hearing his name. Then it half way it started with a crescendo, and Artemis could just see Butler's hand falling again. His chest constricted, and he was quickly writing down the notes, then continued playing.

_This _felt right. The notes flowing out of him automatically, without having to put much thought into him. It was as it should be; all coming naturally.

If the first movement was vivacious this was just violent. How he ran all over London, the feelings that had turmoiled inside him. The desperate, anxious feeling he got while he waited for Holly to come, and how violent the healing was.

The third movement finally fell into a calando, as he remembered seeing Butler breathing. He had matured physically, but he had been _alive, _and it had been all to make Artemis almost fall with relief.

He suddenly started replaying his dream again as he rested, and he replayed all his dreams with Butler. Thankfully he didn't get hard, but he felt the overwhelming feeling in his chest.

Artemis really loved Butler, he really did.

His hands seemed to move by himself, the song in a slow pianissimo. It never changed, it was constant.

Artemis's feelings for Butler are being represented in the fourth and final movement. His feelings were sweet, but at the same time very passionate. They were quiet, he would never confess himself to Butler. But at the same time they were just itching for Butler to touch him, to kiss him.

Artemis finally ended, once again in a calando. He wrote down the final notes and slumped against his piano.

Unbelievable, he actually finished it. He couldn't believe it.

And he was unaware that about three hours had passed.

* * *

When Butler walked in with Artemis's breakfast in the morning he was surprised on not finding him there. He immediately figured out where he was, and left him alone for the rest of the morning, knowing that Artemis did not need him there.

Artemis texted him when it was almost time for lunch. Butler walked in the room, and saw Artemis on his piano bench with a pleasant smile on his face.

"Do you want anything specific for lunch?" he asked.

Artemis seemed to snort and shook his head. "I'm not hungry. I'm exhausted but at the same time excited. I finished it, Butler. I finally finished it."

"The third movement?"

"The _whole symphony,_" Artemis clarified. "I've been up the whole morning."

"I can tell," Butler said, seeing how puffier Artemis's eye bags seemed, but the boy was shaking with excitement.

"I played it about four times and it sounds alright. Although I do need a third party judgement." Artemis looked at him directly in the eye. Butler saw how his cheeks were flushed. "Would you listen to it?"

"Of course," Butler nodded, standing besides the piano.

Artemis put his hands over the piano keys, and he slowly looked up at Butler, then back to his sheets.

Butler was familiar with the First and Second movements. The Third came out soft and subdued, and transformed incredibly sad and scared. Again, it relaxed, it sounded relieved.

The fourth movement sounded like something he's never heard out of Artemis. Something so tender, and sweet. No, not sweet. It was with love, it was expressive.

It really was a way to finish a song. _His_ song.

Butler remembered the night when Artemis held his hand. He felt affection wash over him, and he couldn't help but smile.

Artemis finished, and sighed. "What do you think?" he asked. His expression was tired, but Butler could tell it was worried.

Butler walked over behind him and put his hands on his shoulders. Artemis looked up towards him.

"It's absolutely perfect."

He was pleased on seeing the rosy color creep up on Artemis's cheeks, and Artemis looked back down..

"I-I'm glad you like it," he stuttered, and then said, "Please do go and fetch lunch for me. I'm famished."

Butler chuckled and took his hands off. "Whatever's fine?"

"Yes," Artemis said, and looked up at him again. "And make something for you too, I'd like to have lunch together."

"Alright. It's a date."

When he saw Artemis blush again, he smiled widely as he walked out to the kitchen.

* * *

Artemis stepped up to the podium, and bowed to the crowd. They were staring at him, everyone was. But that didn't matter. He turned around to his orchestra, and tapped his baton. The orchestra looked alert.

Artemis looked over beyond the orchestra, and saw a big figure standing backstage. Butler gave him a small and encouraging smile.

Artemis gave a smile back, and lifted his hands then gave the cue.

* * *

** And I haven't forgotten my other stories! I promise, they're just still in process. Thank you for reading!**


End file.
